


Picture Perfect

by SkadiLaughedFirst



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Poor Loki (Marvel), Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-30 22:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15761088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadiLaughedFirst/pseuds/SkadiLaughedFirst
Summary: Family gatherings should stay in photographs, for all the Borsons’ sakes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you were looking for some short and heart-rending family drama, I have got you covered. Comments bring me unspeakable joy (and help me figure out what to write next, so I don't leave y'all on tenterhooks for too long). Enjoy!

“Ms. Borson?”

She should have hung up right then and there. Instead, Hela stood frozen with the phone pinned to her ear. She was still half in her fatigues. She’d kicked one boot off and the grains of sand had spilled across her carpet. They scratched her foot. The caller’s voice crackled again, uncertainly.

“Ms. Borson? Hela Borson? Hello?”

“Who is this?” she managed at last.

“Ms. Borson, my name is Eir,” the woman answered calmly. “I’m calling from Mountain View Medical Center. We have an older gentleman in the ER they brought in earlier tonight. We found him wandering in Pioneer Park in the snow. He’s got no ID on him but he gave us your contact – ”

“My number? He gave you my cell?”

“Yes, Ms. Borson.” 

Damn. Hela kicked her boot, cursing as her foot struck the steel toe. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. What she should do was hang up the phone. Still, she stayed on the line, unable to move.

“He’s in his seventies, mid-seventies,” Eir continued. “He’s missing his left eye… don’t worry, it’s an old scar, he has an eyepatch. Ah, a white beard? White hair. He won’t give us his name, Ms. Bor – ”

“Corporal.” Hela licked her lips, finally finding her voice. “It’s Corporal, and it’s Rokr. I haven’t used Borson in years.”

“Sorry, Ms…ah, Corporal. Sorry. Would you be able to help us ID him?” As if she’d needed a damn description. As if anyone else would still call her Borson.

“Yeah. Yeah he’s my… I’m his…” She had to stop. The word just wouldn’t come out. “His name is Odin Borson. He lives at 81 Gladsheim in Asgard, Alaska. It’s two, three miles north of Fairbanks?”

“Odin Borson?” Eir sounded relieved. “Do you by any chance know any of his medications he might be on?”

“I… no, no I don’t know. He used to be on Percocet?” Yes, a twelve-year old medical history was just what the doctor needed. She should hang up the phone. “And haloperidol. I think. The VA should have his medical records.”

“The VA?” Eir confirmed. Hela nodded. Pointlessly. 

“Yeah,” she hurried to add. “Where did you say you found him again? The park?” She looked out her window. A thick curtain of snow fell from the black sky, blotting out the city lights. It had been falling all through her drive home. “Is he… is he okay?” She ran a frustrated hand across her scalp even as she finished. What hospital called when everything was okay?

“He’ll be alright,” Eir assured her. “We’re just treating him for the exposure and some mild frostbite.”

“Frostbite?”

“Mild frostbite,” Eir stressed. 

“How many toes does he have to lose before it’s not mild?” Hela snapped. “Sorry,” she added in the next breath. 

“That’s alright, m’am. That’s okay. Listen,” Eir said gently. “Is there anyone else we should call? Any other family or friends?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hela agreed, trying to think of someone who would care. “Yeah.” 

“Ms. Bor… sorry, m’am?”

“Thor,” she snapped her fingers. “Thor Borson. My… his kid. Other… kid.” She bit her lip. 

“Is there a number we could reach him at?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Try your luck on 411.”

“Alright. Thank you, Corporal. And thank you for your service.” Rushed and perfunctory, as usual. “Please call if you have any questions or if you think of anything else. Good night now.”

The call ended, and still she kept the phone to her ear. Hela ran a hand over her forehead, smoothing out the lines. They slid back into place in the next instant. She should have hung up. She should have taken a warm shower, gotten changed and passed out in her own bed. She reached down and emptied the last of the sand out of her boot before shoving it back on. It was a four-hour drive to Fairbanks, and that in good weather. She glanced at the sky and found herself hoping the snow wouldn’t stop. Not just yet. Four hours wasn’t nearly long enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor slammed on the brakes as he turned into his father’s driveway. The pickup ground to a stop less than an inch from an electric blue Pontiac parked out front. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out and parked on the street. With the two bags of groceries under his arm he headed towards the house. Snow had half filled the tire tracks and small drifts had piled up against the windows and the neon orange fender. 'M4STER' gleamed in half-hidden letters on the license plate. Thor dusted the powder off the passenger side as he passed. Burnt out cigarettes overflowed the ashtray and a stained sweater stuck out of a duffle on the floor. On the seat lay a legal-sized envelope. A five-month old date was stamped on the front above a name: ‘Sigyn Gosforth’, printed in neat, black letters. 

Thor set the groceries down the stoop and started digging around for his key. He didn’t have to. A gust of wind set the front door swinging. Thor caught it and stepped inside, nearly slipping on the melted snow in the hall. He fumbled for the lights.

“Dad?” he called. His fingers found the switch. The short hallway ended in a shabby living room. Thor pursed his lips when he heard the snores. He passed the cramped dining room and the stairs to the second floor as he stalked towards the man sleeping on the plastic-covered couch. 

“Loki!” he shook him, none too gently, as he grabbed his younger brother’s shoulder. Loki pulled his hoodie tighter around his head and turned his back to Thor. “Hey, Loki! Come on, get up.” Thor grabbed hold of the thick, black fabric and pulled, flipping Loki onto his back. His brother’s head cracked against the armrest. A fresh bruise shone purple under his left eye.

“I’m up, I’m up!” he woke with a yelp. “Jesus, okay. I’m up.” He frowned as his eyes focused on Thor. “What?”

“The fuck are you doing here?” Thor asked, crossing his arms. Loki swung his legs off the side of the couch.

“Sleeping?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“At Dad’s place?”

“Oh, is this Dad’s place?” Loki feigned surprise. “Then I meant leaving.” He made to stand. Thor easily pushed him back against the couch.

“I haven’t seen you since the hearing,” he said, crossing his arms. “No calls, no letters. You wouldn’t let me visit.” Loki said nothing. He scratched his nose, not meeting Thor’s gaze. “When did you get out?”

“Couple weeks ago,” Loki admitted. “Parole. For good behaviour.”

“That’s a first.”

“Don’t worry,” Loki grinned. “I’m not planning to make it a habit.” This time Thor let him stand. Loki ran a hand through his greasy black hair. It was longer than Thor remembered.

“I’d have picked you up at the gate, you know.” He couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter that Loki pretended not to hear him, focused on digging his car keys out from between the couch pillows. “If you’d called. Or told me you were getting out.”

“And listened to you preach the whole way back?” Loki scoffed. “At least on the bus they let you sleep.” He found his keys and shoved them in his pocket. Then he saw Thor staring. “What?”

“Are you,” Thor licked his lips. Tried to be delicate. “Are you good to drive?”

Loki scowled. “I’m fine. You wanna check the cabinet to make sure?”

“Loki,” Thor sighed. “I only asked – “

“Yeah, well, I only answered.”

“Look, I’m just trying to figure out why you’re here.”

“And your first guess was the pills?” Loki snapped. “Are you gonna ask if I stole his wallet next?”

“Can you blame me?”

Instead of answering, Loki sidestepped Thor and headed down the hall. “None of your damn business why I’m here.”

Thor chased after him. He stopped Loki beside the stairs. “Where’s Dad?”

“Bedroom, I guess?” Loki shrugged. “Said he needed a nap.”

“Had a nice long, talk, did you?” Thor nodded at the black eye. “Seriously, why did you come here? Dad needs, you know, stability. Routine. Seeing you… I mean, you should’ve known better.”

“Yeah,” Loki said sourly. “My bad for being in the way.”

“Come on,” Thor sighed, exasperated. “That’s not what I meant. Just – name one time you’ve managed to talk to him without mouthing off.”

“I don’t ‘mouth off’,” Loki began. Thor shook his head. He didn’t have the patience for this conversation. Not tonight.

“You said bedroom?” he interrupted. Loki nodded. Thor turned and headed through the dining room, towards a peeling beige door. Loki followed, cautiously. Thor knocked. No answer. He tried the doorknob. The door creaked open. The light was on  
inside, and the bed still crisply made. The rest of the room was in shambles. The contents of Odin’s closet lay on the floor, and the dusty box of medals had been emptied over the pile. Pieces of a broken plate floated in a congealed puddle of soup in the corner. Even the picture frame on the bedside table lay on its side, tilting the smiling faces on their family photo.

“So did you trash the place before your little talk, or after?” Thor asked. Just to say something. He slammed the door shut and reached for his phone. 

“I didn’t touch his room!” Loki balked. Thor wasn’t listening.

“Every eight hours,” he muttered, eyeing the screen. 9:00 PM. Trying to add the hours in his head. “Every eight – when did you last see him?” 

“I don’t know? Last night?”

“What time?”

Loki shrugged. “Maybe seven?”

“Fuck. Did you see him take his meds? The pillbox, in the bathroom?”

“Behind the mirror? Nah, that’s full.”

“Dammit. Okay, did you check upstairs?” He watched the colour drain from Loki’s face. “Fine, I’ll go. But if he’s not there,” Thor dug the heel of his palm into his eye. “Look, I’m not starting anything, but if you’ve taken something you’ll probably want to  
clear out. I’m gonna call the cops, file a missing person report.”

“He’s only been gone a few hours,” Loki protested.

“All day,” Thor heard himself raise his voice. He saw Loki take a step back, press into the wall. It wasn’t enough to make his stop. “He’s been gone all day, and all last night for all I know.”

“So the crazy bastard went for walk – “

Before he could think, Thor grabbed the front of Loki’s hoodie and pressed his brother against the wall. Loki froze. Waiting. “He is not crazy,” Thor said slowly. He forced himself to loosen his grip. “He’s sick. Do you get that? He’s sick, and missing two doses means that he can’t handle his shit. Not a walk, not cooking his food or cleaning the house and sure as hell not dealing with you. So just… just go, okay? I’ve got enough of to deal with here without you.”

“Okay,” Loki said hoarsely. Thor lowered his hand, but Loki stayed in place against the wall. “Okay, I’m going. I’m just gonna grab one thing – “

“What thing?” Thor said harshly. “You don’t have things here, you get that? Look, I’m sorry, but you have to leave. If you need something, money, whatever, you call me, okay? I’ll see what I can do. But you can’t come here, Loki. Not just out of the blue. And  
you can’t be here when he gets back.”

The front door opened over the end of his sentence. Thor and Loki both turned to look down the hallway at the dark-haired woman shaking snow off her shoulder. “Hela?” Loki said finally. “What are you doing here?”

“Fantastic fucking question,” Hela growled. She turned to call out the still open door. “Come on, hurry up. It’s a whole party in here.” Snow crunched on the doorstep as Odin followed her in. Thor sagged with relief at seeing him. The old man was still in his slippers and left damp stains on the linoleum as he shuffled into the dining room. He glanced briefly up at Loki as he passed. Thor held his breath. Then Odin went back to picking at his white patient wristband. He reached the dining room and pulled back the chair at the head of the table, sitting down with his back to the three of them.

“Thanks for finding him,” Thor told his sister. “I can handle him from here. It’s probably gonna be a rough night, so if you want I can find you a motel or something.”

Hela coughed up a laugh. “Oh, no. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Thor tried again. “There’s a Motel 6 just two exits west of here. Loki can show you the way.”

“No,” Hela said firmly. “Nobody is leaving this house tonight. Nobody. Not until I find out who gave that asshole my number.”

Within ten minutes, Thor had stopped trying to argue with her. The best he’d managed to do was get her out of the dining room. Loki could hear her rifling through Odin’s things in the bedroom. He tried to listen to that, instead of Thor and Odin. He picked his nails, still standing with his back to the wall. Just out of sight of the dining room. 

“Dad, please.” Thor sounded exasperated. “Just take them.”

“Already took them yesterday.”

“I know, Dad, but it’s important.”

“Ach, it’s important,” Odin mocked. Loki dug his nails deeper into his palm. “They’re the wrong colours to be important,” he continued stubbornly. 

“They’re the same colours as yesterday,” Thor said patiently.

“I need a glass of water.”

“I got you one, Dad. Right here.” Loki heard the cup scrape across the table as Thor slid it over.

“That one’s been sitting out.”

“Okay,” Thor sighed. “I’ll get a new one, okay? Just take the pills so we can go to bed?”

“Are you stupid? I can’t go to bed. That whore’s in there tearing up my room. Did she take the lightbulbs out yet? That’s how they do it,” he knocked the table twice. “Screwing in the lightbulbs.”

“She’ll leave as soon as you take your meds.”

“No, no, no. I’m too tired to take them. I’ll take them in the morning.”

“Dad you have to take them now.”

“I said in the morning!” Odin barked. Loki flinched. He started chewing on his thumbnail, watching the front door. Thor wouldn’t care. Hela wouldn’t notice until he was gone. But he’d made it this far already. He put his hands back in his pockets and forced  
himself to breathe. Then he moved. In three quick steps he passed the dining room and reached the beige door. He didn’t look up, not even when he heard Odin shout and the pillbox clatter against the wall. He slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Hela looked up from her seat on the bed. “Oh, it’s you,” she said blandly. She barely glanced up from the faded pages of Odin’s address book.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Loki waited a beat. “So am I free to go? Or do you still think I guessed your number and for some reason gave it to him?”

“Hm? Oh, year, yeah. Whatever.” Hela flipped the page. “Go home. It was just… it’s a long drive, you know? And it was weird seeing you both here.”

“It’s weird being here,” Loki said sheepishly. 

“Right,” Hela nodded. Loki could see the moment she lost interest in him. He should just go. Grab it and go. Instead he sat down on the bed beside her.

“You know I didn’t come here to steal anything, right? I’m just grabbing some things.”

“Sure,” Hela said, half-listening. Less than half.

“I’m not lying.”

She turned another page in the notebook. “You know, Loki, I really don’t care. You want some of his shit, be my guest.” Loki stayed seated beside her. He reached over to the bedside cabinet and righted the frame. A gap-toothed ten-year-old beamed up at him from behind the glass. Beside him, Thor had already hit his first growth spurt and stood nearly as tall as teenaged Hela. Even she had cracked a smile. Frigga’s arm curled over her daughter’s shoulder, pulling her close. Odin held her other hand.  
Loki set the frame down on the bed, the glass against the blankets. “Here’s something you might care about,” he told Hela. “Guess who my parole officer is.”

“Loki…” If she weren’t reading she would have rolled her eyes.

“Just guess,” he grinned. “You’ll love this.” He waited. Hela didn’t try to guess. “Remember Thanos?”

Hela turned the page deliberately. Loki watched her for any flicker of feeling. The stillness – the slowness – were almost satisfying enough. Almost.

“So,” Loki dragged the vowel out. “Any advice? For dealing with him, I mean?”

“Don’t be yourself,” Hela answered flatly. It might’ve been a joke. It might not have. Loki decided to laugh, anyway.

“Anything other than the obvious?” he tried. “How he likes his coffee? What shitty show I need to watch to get his jokes? What football team I should be a fan of?”

“Are you trying to date him or get him to sign you off?”

“I’ve found there’s not much of a difference. So pro tips?”

“Jesus. Fine,” she set the address book aside. Finally. “Pro tip? He’s a piece of shit. Jump through whatever hoops he throws you or he’ll make you regret it like you won’t believe. And if you even think about bringing up my name in this, there won’t be anything left of you for him after I’m through.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Loki deadpanned. “How did you ever leave?”

“Asshole didn’t have an ankle bracelet on me.”

“Did get a ring on, though, didn’t he?” If it were Thor, he wouldn’t have dared. But Hela just bared her teeth in a frightful smile.

“Yeah, and I got some self-respect.”

“He’s that bad, huh?” He must have slipped into sincerity, because Hela actually looked up at him now. Her cold grey eyes did nothing for his nerves.

“Yeah, he’s that bad,” she agreed. “But it’s just like with Odin, right? Keep you head down, wait it out and you never have to see him again.” 

“Until they catch me again, right?” He chuckled. Hela let him have the joke.

“Dude, that’s your problem,” she said, shaking her head. She picked up the address book again. “If you…” Halfway down the page, she sucked in her breath. “Motherfucker.” She stood, tossing the notebook on the bed, and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“What happened?” Loki asked. Hela had already started dialing the number.

“When did you find out he was your parole office?” she asked quickly.

“Thanos? I dunno, two weeks ago?”

She stopped dialing long enough to give him a hard look. Loki swallowed. Her face unreadable, Hela turned back to her phone. “That piece of shit. Listen, you go do whatever you need to do.” She finished keying in the number. “I need to make call.” 

She stood up to pace as the phone rang. Loki scooped up the picture frame and slipped out of the room. It was quiet, at least for now. As good a time as any. Hugging the picture so close that the frame stabbed into his side, Loki made for the front door. He’d barely taken a step before Thor ducked out of the dining room and blocked his way.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Loki angled himself to hide picture between himself and the wall. He nodded at the door.

“I’m leaving, like you said.”

“Yeah.” Thor had the decency to look embarrassed. “Dad broke the pillbox.”

“I heard.”

“I’ve got some of his stuff in the truck, but I’m just down the road. Since you blocked up the driveway,” he added. Just to add something.

“I’ll move,” Loki offered.

“Can you just watch him, thirty seconds? Don’t – don’t talk to him or anything,” Thor took Loki’s shoulder and steered him to perch on the back of the couch. He couldn’t not look into the dining room now. The off-white carpet was peppered with a rainbow of pills. Odin was tapping his foot on a red one. The back of his head was less than three feet away. Loki could see the sheen of the bald spot behind his left ear. “Just sit here two minutes, make sure he doesn’t walk out again.”

“You’re serious?” Loki couldn’t look away from Odin’s scalp.

“Two minutes,” Thor promised. “Just keep and eye on him.”

“And what, tackle him if he tries to leave?”

“No. Just… Fine, I’ll get Hela.”

“She’s on the phone.”

“Okay, so sit here and call me if… if anything. It’s two damn minutes. You think you can do that?”

Loki swallowed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Thanks,” Thor said, already heading down the hall. He’d grabbed his coat and left before Loki could think what to say. He returned to watching the dining room. Watched as Odin cocked his head to one side. As he reached for the glass of water, only to  
move it to the other side of the table.

“Boy,” Odin said suddenly. Loki wasn’t expecting it. He jumped, sliding right off the edge of the couch. His feet hit the floor too loudly to hide. “Get in here or sit somewhere else,” Odin continued, his voice strong and clear. “I can feel your eyes burning holes in my back.”

Loki glanced at the front door. Thor wasn’t back yet.

“You need repeating?” Odin called. Loki stood and inched into the dining room. His shoulder brushed the wall as he made for the chair two down from Odin. His usual seat, once. Just out of reach.

“Look at me, boy.” Loki didn’t want to. Odin’s loose grey t-shirt hung off his collarbone. The thick red rope of the scar curled around his neck just above the collar. Odin scratched it idly. “What happened to you eye?” he asked. Loki folded his arms awkwardly over the picture frame in his lap.

“Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing’s got a mean right hook.”

“Yessir.”

“You remember that Banner kid? The boxer, in ’82?”

Loki couldn’t help himself. “Well, I wasn’t alive in 1982.”

“Don’t be smart,” Odin scowled.

“No, sir,” Loki sighed.

“That Banner kid,” Odin continued, as if Loki hadn’t spoken. “He had a fine right hook. It’s all in the follow through.” He mimed a short punch, rolling from his shoulder. “Conviction,” he said decidedly. “You gotta follow through.”

“Yessir.”

“’Yes sir’, ‘no sir’,” Odin mimicked. “When the hell did you get so polite, Vili?” Hearing his uncle’s name, Loki relaxed into the back of his chair. 

“Dunno,” he said easily, propping his elbows up on the table. ‘Vili’ didn’t get called out for bad manners. Or for mouthing off.

“Where’s Fenris?” Odin said instead of answering. He whistled. “Fen, here boy!” He slapped his thigh under the table. “Dumb dog thinks he’s chasing rabbits.” Loki shrugged. He’d never met Fenris. Hela had been a toddler when they’d had him put down.

“It’s like at the track,” Odin went on. “How when they race dogs they give them this little furball on a stick to chase. And I’d think, that’s fucking funny, right? These dogs running like crazy thinking there’s something they’ll catch at the end.” He paused.

“Funny,” Loki said. Because Odin was expecting something.

“I thought it was funny,” Odin nodded. He squinted at Loki. “Did I ever take you up to track?” he asked. Loki faltered. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. He started fumbling through some answer when the bedroom door slammed open.

“No, don’t ‘babe’ me,” Hela stalked out into the hallway, the phone pressed tight to her ear. “You think you can just go around giving him my number? My – what?” She wasn’t quite shouting, but it was a close thing. Odin scowled and turned in his chair to look at her. Loki quickly straightened up in his seat and slid his elbows off the table. “What do you mean, you owed him one? At cards?” She snorted. “Jesus fucking Christ, how dumb do you have to be lose to a guy who forgets what cards he’s holding. Listen.” Her voice got louder. “No, no asshole, you listen. You don’t – ”

“Keep it the hell down, woman,” Odin shouted. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some of us are trying to have a decent conversation.” Hela ignored him.

“Dad, it’s fine,” Loki said quietly. “It’s just Hela. On the phone.”

“Huh?”

“Hela. She’s – fuck it,” Loki groaned.

“You watch your mouth,” Odin threw back, without really looking at Loki. Out of habit. Hela drowned out Loki’s apology.

“Does this sound like my ‘asking nicely’ voice, fucker? You do not use Odin to try and get back in touch. You don’t try and get back in – no, are you insane? No, it did not work. This is not the sound of anything working!” Her pacing brought her to the end of the hall. She turned, red faced, and started stalking back. Loki’s chair squeaked back as he stood. He caught her behind Odin’s chair.

“Hey, seriously though, can you do this somewhere else?”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t start with me,” she said lowly. Then, into the phone: “Huh? You know, yeah, me too. Only it’s about five fucking years too late!”

“Please,” Loki said under his breath. He saw Odin turning, one arm swung over the back of his seat. “You’ll just piss – ”

“You know what? You, too. You – ”

“Please,” Loki begged.

“Fuck off,” Hela growled.

“Loki, shut up!” Odin barked.

“Go to hell,” Hela shouted into the phone. “Call me again and I will bury you.” She hung up. And turned on Loki. “Did you know about this?” He backed into the dining room. Hela followed.

“Know about what?”

“’Cause Thanos is apparently best buddies with Odin now. And all of sudden you come home, Odin doesn’t throw you out – and your whole little act in there?” She pitched her voice higher and added a whimper. “How does he like his coffee?” she  
mimicked. “Should I just suck his dick? Does he like that? Oh, I know,” she slapped her forehead. “I’ll get Hela to come home! He’ll fucking love that.”

“Are you insane?” Loki stammered. “Are you listening to – ”

“But how do I get her to come back,” Hela continued furiously. “Huh? Oh, turning my dad out into a snowstorm should do it!”

“This is crazy,” Loki muttered. He tried to push past Hela into the hall. Hela shoved him back. “You’re both crazy. This was a mistake.” Again, he tried to slip between her and the wall, but Hela pushed his shoulder. Hard. He stumbled back into a chair. Odin looked blankly towards the sound.

“Crazy, huh?” Hela ranted. Instinctively, Loki ducked under his arm. “Put your hand down,” she snapped, slapping it away. “Why did you come here then? Eh?” She raised her hand again. “Why are you here?” The blow caught Loki’s ear before he could flinch away.

“Fuck,” Loki clapped a hand to the sore side of his head. He backed deeper into the room, scraping the wall to stay out of Hela’s reach. “I told you, I just came to get some things.”

“What, the photo?” she pointed. All at once, Odin sat up. His eyes focused. And narrowed. Loki pressed the frame into his side, tilting his body to hide the picture.

“Frigga?” Odin said dangerously.

“Dad, we talked about this – last night,” Loki began.

“Where are you taking her?”

Loki raced through the words. “I’m just borrowing, like we said.”

“What for?”

“I told you who it’s for. Okay? I’m gonna go,” he said uncertainly. But Odin kept looking at him. Loki didn’t move.

“Put her back,” Odin said quietly. Loki could hear his pulse in his ears. He shook his head.

“I’m just gonna scan it,” he promised. “Then I’ll give it to Thor and he’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

“Put,” Odin clenched his teeth, “her back.”

“Loki, just put the picture back.” Hela was still shaking with rage, but she was looking at Odin now. Careful glances. “Just down on the table.” Loki shook is head again. But he was watching Odin, too.

“Come on,” Hela sighed. She reached behind Loki and pulled on the frame. Numbly, Loki let her. She set the picture down in front of Odin. “Are we good?” Odin nodded sharply. He moved the picture closer, letting his finger trace the pattern curling up the  
frame. “Loki?” Hela pressed. 

Loki didn’t nod. Hela could see the moment he decided, dropping his shoulders and clenching his jaw. “Don’t,” she warned, but Loki sprang forward. He grabbed the frame. Odin’s hand clenched tighter. Loki ignored Hela’s shouts and the old man’s snarl.  
The glass in the frame shifted under his fingers. He wrenched the picture out of Odin’s grip and fell back. Odin’s chair skidded back as he reached for the half-full glass. Loki bolted for the door, arms folded over his head. Odin threw before he’d taken a step. The glass shattered against Loki’s forearm. Loki yelped as the water hit him. Pain lanced through his left hand. Under it, he felt the picture frame crack in his palm even as he let it drop. It broke against the scuffed floor. The photo fluttered out into the hall. Looking down at his hand, Loki saw a thin, clear splinter sticking out just above his wrist. He blinked at the blood welling up around it.

“Fine,” he said, pulling out the splinter. Odin pushed past him to reach the photo, leaning a hand on the wall as he crouched slowly. Loki stepped over his arm as he left the dining room. Hela was shouting something after him but Loki had stopped paying attention. Thinking only of putting one foot in front of the other, he nearly crashed into Thor at the end of the hall.

“I – Loki,” Thor sounded resigned as he closed the front door. “What did you do?”

“The fuck took you so long?” Loki snapped. He reached for the doorknob. “Move.”

“You’re bleeding,” Thor said, tapping his forehead. Loki rubbed above his brow. His hand came away redder than before. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” Thor sighed.

“Don’t,” Loki said quickly. “I’m just gonna go.”

Thor bowed his head. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Okay. Can I get you a band-aid or something?”

“I’ve got tape in the car.” Loki opened the door. The cold air stung his cuts and he felt his eyes water. He swallowed. It was just the wind. Thor called after him from the stoop. Something about ‘when things quiet down’ and ‘talk’. Loki nodded without  
looking back. His hands were sore and shaking by the time he reached his car. He left blood on the lining of his pocket as he fished for his keys. Just as his fingers scratched the metal, headlights lit up the driveway. The sleek black Ram skidded to a stop just an inch behind Loki’s car. The engine cut out with the back wheels still hanging out onto the street. Heavy boots crunched through the snow as the driver side door slammed shut. In his thick purple parka, Thanos should have looked ridiculous. But then he smiled. Even Thor drew back a bit.

“Borson,” Thanos greeted him cheerfully. The flickering porchlight glanced off his teeth. “Loki,” he nodded. Something cold crawled up Loki’s spine. “Is Hela inside?”


	3. Chapter 3

Odin sat back in his chair, thumbing the scratched photo.

“There she is,” he murmured, sing-song. “There’s my girl.”

Hela threw the glass in the kitchen trash harder than she needed to. Just to hear the broken pieces splinter.

“You can’t call me,” she told Odin, without turning. “I’m not coming back.”

“Home,” Odin muttered. He didn’t look up from the faded, frozen faces. “You’re supposed to say, ‘coming home’.”

“Not my home,” Hela said. When Odin didn’t answer she stalked across the dining room and snatched her coat up off the couch. She was halfway to the door before he spoke.

“You said you’d never leave me.” His voice was sad, and soft, and Hela hated that she stopped to listen. “I’m forgetting, sometimes. Some things,” he admitted. Then went on. “But not that. I took you off the base, to that park with the long walk. And it was summer and hot so you could smell the linden trees. And you told me you’d never leave me. You promised.”

Hela breathed. Slowly, out through her nose. So she wouldn’t punch a hole through the wall. “Well, she left,” she answered, finally. And added a vicious, “Dad.” She smiled when she saw him flinch, even as her gut twisted. “She left all of us.” She only hoped it hurt him more to hear it than it hurt her to say.

Odin said nothing as she put on her coat. Nothing as she tied her boots. She turned the doorknob and pretended she couldn’t hear him when he spoke.

“Don’t leave, too.”

Her cheeks burned as she stepped out into the snow. It was still falling, bad enough that she knew she shouldn’t try to drive home in it. She didn’t care. She didn’t look where she was going and nearly walked into Thor. “Move,” she started to say. Then stopped when she looked past him down the driveway.

“Hey.” Thanos gave a small smile. It made her skin crawl. He faltered a little at her glare. “Can I –?”

“Even you can’t be this dumb,” Hela snapped.

“You weren’t leaving town without seeing me.” If it had been a question, she would have laughed because her voice would’ve shook too much to answer. But Thanos didn’t ask questions, not even to play around. Thanos decided. Hela kept her voice flat.

“I’m leaving now.” She pushed past Thor and down the steps and into the snow and past Loki’s nervous shudders and past –

“I’m sorry.”

She took three more steps before she understood what he’d said. Then she stopped.

“I’m sorry,” Thanos repeated from behind her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You think,” she snarled, without turning, “that’s what I want to hear?”

“I’m shit at knowing what you want.”

“At least you know that.” She didn’t smile, exactly. She couldn’t, not when her throat tasted like copper and each heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Lotta good it did me,” Thanos said. “Hela, I just want to talk. That’s it.”

That was never it. She knew that. Her car was just a few feet ahead, just left of the driveway on the snowy road. But the distance to it stretched, warped – she didn’t remember the driveway being this long. Or the snow this thick. Thanos had already started talking, without waiting to hear if she’d listen. He’d already decided she would.

“Stop,” Hela gasped, and getting even one word in felt like coming up for air. “Stop – just. This is pathetic.”

“Look at me.” She didn’t want to. “Hela.” She expected him to grin, but Thanos just looked sad.

“I miss you,” he said.

“You miss having me.”

“No,” he began patiently. But Hela was done with patience. She rounded on him and closed the distance between them like every step didn’t terrify her.

“You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to look for me, or call me or try whatever fucked-up shit might ‘bring me back’! There’s nothing to come back to. You’ve taken and twisted and killed every good thing we ever had. So now it’s just this.”

“Then I’ll miss this. It’s still you.”

“Oh, fuck you, and your lines and your bullshit.”

Thanos just smiled. This one wasn’t kind.

“ You would’ve made a fantastic mother.”

Hela wasn’t sure when she started moving. Or shouting. She felt her wrist click and her knuckles sting. She saw Thanos take a step back with his hand over his jaw. There was that black look she recognized, shining out of his eyes, but Hela was too angry to back down. She was already drawing back her arm for a second blow when Loki darted in between them. Her nails raked the side of his cheek before he managed to duck out of the way.

“Fuck! Hela,” he snapped.

“Move.”

“Stop, come on.”

“ _You’re_ gonna tell me what to do?” It sounded like the biggest joke in the world when she said it. She was ready to swing but Loki caught her arm and pinned it to her side. The strangeness of the move, more than the strength, kept her there.

“I said, stop trying to punch my PO,” Loki hissed.

“Trying?” Thanos muttered. Gingerly, he ran his tongue along the inside of the cheek she’d struck. He licked away the bit of blood that bubbled up in the corner of his lip.

“You wanna go?” she called, still furious. But Loki was right there in front of her, terrified.

“Please,” he breathed. Hela shook him off and shoved him aside.

“Stay outta my fucking way next time,” she growled. She turned to leave, ignoring Thor’s “You okay?” and Loki’s “Fuckload of help you were.” She couldn’t ignore the hand clapping down on her arm. Thanos’ grip was firm enough to hold her in place.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, already knowing that that wouldn’t make him let go.

“If you don’t want me to press charges,” he said softly, “you’re not gonna leave like this.” Red blood was still trickling out the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth. Hela pushed his hand away.

“Do what you’ll do. I don’t give a shit.” She should’ve known that that would sound like a challenge to him.

“Loki!” Thanos turned sharply. Hela forced herself to keep walking towards her car – one step at a time. Even as she heard Thanos keep talking. “This your car? You allowed to be driving yet?”

“Yes,” Loki answered hesitantly. “Yes, sir,” he added.

“’Yes’ to which? Your car that you’re not allowed to drive, or stolen car you can?”

“I –”

“You have your license on you, Loki? You know you’re not supposed to drive without that.”

Hela kept walking. Thor would step in, she told herself. She could hear the snow crunch as he came down the steps.

“Thanos,” Thor started. He didn’t get the chance to finish.

“You know, you should check on your dad,” Thanos said, and Hela cursed him silently for sounding sincere. Thor hesitated. “I know you don’t like leaving him for too long. Might walk off somewhere. Again.”

Thor stammered, and this time it was Loki who interrupted him.

“Thor. Go inside.” His voice shook, just enough. But Hela still kept walking. Even though Thor helplessly agreed, and climbed the stairs back up to the house and closed the door. Even though she was leaving Loki more and more alone with every step.

“Good boy, you’ve got a license. The car?”

“It’s a friend’s,” Loki said tightly. “Borrowed it.”

“Your friend have a name?”

She heard Loki pause, and imagined he licked his lips. “En Dwi Gast.  Some people call him GM. He lives in Sakaar –”

“Did I ask you where he lives?” Thanos snapped. Loki went silent. “Hm?”

“No, sir.”

For a beat there was only the sound of Hela’s footsteps in the snow. Then Thanos continued.

“And he knows you ‘borrowed’ his car to drive it two towns over?”

“Yessir.”

“That’s a good friend,” Thanos commented.

“Yessir.”

“You got anything in there you don’t want me to see?” Hela heard Loki mumbling some answer and wished he were smart enough to keep his mouth shut. “Unlock it.”

Hela clenched her hand around the keys in her pocket. She was at the end of the driveway and could see her snow-covered fender just two steps to the left. She started to brush off the windshield and dig out the front wheels. She’d have to drive at a crawl if she didn’t want to end up in a ditch somewhere between towns.

“Take it out. All of it, just out on the snow. Come on, I don’t want to be here all night.”

That last part, Hela was sure, was a lie. There wasn’t anywhere else Thanos would rather be.

“What is this?” Thanos’ tone wasn’t playful anymore. Hela heard the rustle of paper and an envelope being torn open.

“Nothing.” Loki’s answer was too fast. “Just some pictures. Just –”

“You better tell me these are your friend’s, too.” Loki couldn’t tell him that. “Well. Hela!” Thanos shouted suddenly. “Congratulations. Did you know you were an aunt?”

Hela froze.

“Did you hear me?” Thanos called furiously. “There’s one of her with her mommy here, too. Come and see. She’s a tiny little thing.”

Hela wanted to scream.  She took a shaky step, because she was at the car and the door was right there. Because Thanos wanted her to stay still. She clicked her keys, unlocking the car, and knew they could hear the pop and see the headlights blink down the driveway.

“Congratulations!” Thanos spat, as she opened the driver side door. He didn’t have anything left to say when she slammed it shut. Hela could still hear them through her windows as she fumbled for the ignition.

“She didn’t –” Loki tried. Thanos rounded on him, teeth bared.

“Did I sound like I was talking to you? Do you think I’m congratulating you? It wasn’t enough to screw your own life up, now you go and have a kid? What do you think you can do for her, huh? Father of the year, but only during visiting hours and through a glass pane.”

“Look –” Loki seethed.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Thanos said. “Tell me you’re clean and staying clean and won’t ever try and break the rules again.” He sneered. “You’re not that good a liar.”

“I’m not trying to lie to you!” Loki exploded. “I just –”

“Why’d you stop unpacking the car?”

“What?”

“I told you to put all this shit out on the snow so I can see what’s in the car. Did you hear me say stop?”

“No, but –”

Hela started her engine. The car rolled a few inches forward, just far enough that she could see down the driveway. Then it stalled against the snowbank. Hela swore and pressed the pedal down, trying not to look up. She could feel Thanos watching her. And he spoke more than loud enough for her to hear.

“Take off your shoes,” he told Loki.

“What?” Loki repeated blankly.

“Take off your shoes. And take off the rest of it, too. You wouldn’t keep your stash in the car anyway.”

“What stash? I don’t have anything!”

“That’s not your call though, is it?” Hela cut the engine and held her breath, and knew that Thanos was savouring the silence. “Strip, or I’m gonna have to write you up.”

Hela should’ve left, a long time before then. She should’ve been gone the minute Thanos let her go. Instead, she slammed the door open and headed back down the driveway, shaking with rage. Back to where Loki stood shivering, his bare feet turning red from the cold.

“Pants, too,” Thanos said calmly, as Loki pulled his shirt off and set it beside his hoodie on the front seat. He looked at Hela as he said it. He didn’t need to check if Loki would.

“Stop it,” Hela said, when she was close enough that she wouldn’t have to shout. “You have something you wanna tell me, you tell _me_. You don’t…”

The ground slipped out from under her on her next step, and she stumbled. At first, she thought it must be ice but when she looked down, she saw the pictures. There were three, spilling out on the snow between a torn envelope and a sweater stained down the back with a streak of dried sick. Two of the photos were black and grey, but even in the dim glow of the porchlight she could make out the big head and tiny hands that showed up on the ultrasound. A woman Hela vaguely recognized smiled from a hospital bed in the third. Sigyn, she remembered. A small red nose and wrinkled forehead stuck out of the little bundle in her arms.

“See, here’s the thing,” Thanos said. “I’ve already told you what I came to tell you. You just couldn’t listen.”

Loki’s pants hit the ground and he hurried to step on them to put something between the snow and his feet. He shoved his shaking hands under his arms, leaving short red streaks on his skin from where the cut on his hand was still bleeding. He tried not to look either Hela or Thanos in the eye. His rattling breaths floated up around him like smoke.

“This isn’t going to make me listen,” Hela said.

“No,” Thanos agreed. “But you did come back.”

“You need to go,” Hela told him.

“Okay. Come meet me tomorrow then.” He didn’t even sound smug. Hela glanced at Loki and gritted her teeth. For a moment she hated him as much as she hated Thanos.

“Fine,” she said stiffly. “I’ll come to the Pitstop, I’ll have a coffee, and then I’ll leave.”

“Sure,” Thanos grinned. “Then you’ll leave.”

“Just go,” Hela said.

“Hey Loki,” Thanos ignored her. “Do I need to check, or can I assume you’ve got nothing down there?” He nodded at the loose, grey boxers. Hela could barely hear Loki’s answer.

“N-nothing.”

“Good,” Thanos chuckled. “Let’s keep it that way. See you next week.”

“Yeah,” Loki gasped weakly.

“Say hi to your dad for me,” Thanos called. He opened the door to his truck and stepped inside. “Hope he feels better.”

Neither Borson answered as Thanos’ engine roared to life. With a little wave he slid out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. The snow fell hard behind him.

“Put your clothes back on,” Hela said finally. “Before Thor sees.” She didn’t look at Loki, but she heard the rustling as he pulled his wet pants over his chattering knees. She crouched down to pick up the pictures and stacked them on top of each other before handing Loki the damp pile.

“Sigyn sent them to me,” he explained quietly. “When I was in, you know. Inside. She’s almost ten months old now.”

“You sure she’s yours?” Hela asked. She was still angry. Loki only shrugged.

“If Sigyn lets me stick around,” he said, “then she’ll be mine. The rest of it doesn’t matter so much.”

“Loki,” Hela sighed. “You need to check if she’s yours.”

Instead of replying, Loki pulled his hoodie back on, wincing as the fabric scraped his cut. He leaned against the car to put his shoes back on. He didn’t meet Hela’s eye.

“Did you hear me?” she pressed. “You need to check if you’re her father, and then you need to start seeing a doctor in case you start acting… in case you start unscrewing the lightbulbs to look for microphones or  talking to people who aren’t there.” Still, he gave her no answer. “You know they didn’t diagnose Odin until after Thor was born and… Have you told Thor?” she asked abruptly.

“No,” Loki muttered.

“Shit. Okay.” Hela rubbed her eyes. She turned and started walking back up to the house. “Let’s go,” she called. “Or do you want him to find out from Thanos, too?”

She waited at the door until she heard Loki follow, dragging his feet through the snow.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor closed the door to Odin’s bedroom over his father’s snores. For the first time since coming home that night he let himself breathe. Then he heard the front door open.

“Thought you two were leaving,” he said. Hela shook the snow out of her hair. Loki closed the door behind them.

“We were.” Hela didn’t bother speaking softly, even after Thor motioned at the bedroom door. “Just figured you’d like to know you’re an uncle, first. Oh, and I guess Odin’s a grandad, too. You wanna tell him or –”

“He knows,” Loki muttered.

“ _He_ knows?” Hela’s brows shot up into her scalp. “You told that bastard and not either of us?”

“Wait…” Thor pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Just… what do you mean, I’m an uncle? Loki?”

Loki only shrugged. “Like she said.”

“Little Loki had a baby,” Hela said, sing-song. “With that girl Sigyn, from the hunting permit office.”

“Sigyn? When? You were in…” Thor trailed off.

“She’s ten months old,” Loki admitted reluctantly. Thor saw the way he shifted, shoulders tucked in and angled away from his siblings. Bracing himself for whatever came next. Thor sighed, and pushed back half the things he wanted to say. He didn’t think he could say them without shouting.

“What’s her name?” he asked instead. Loki blinked.

“Edda,” he said at last. “For Sigyn’s mom.”

“And, she’s healthy and everything?”

“Yeah.”

“And Sigyn?”

“Doing great.”

Thor smiled encouragingly. Loki didn’t smile back. “Good. That’s – it’s good.”

“Show him the pictures,” Hela said sourly. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Thor glanced at Loki.

“Can I…?”

Instead of answering, Loki shoved the three damp pages and the envelope at him, and walked briskly into the kitchen. The walls rattled as he turned on the tap and water chugged out from the faucet.

“What happened?” Thor asked his sister.

Hela shrugged. “What you’d expect.”

“Did he –”

“We aren’t talking about him,” Hela said sharply.

“I – okay,” Thor nodded. “Is Loki okay?”

“Ask him. Probably won’t be after his parole check in next week.”

Loki came back, clutching a glass of water so tightly that the cut on the back on his hand had started bleeding again. Thor watched a few red drops hit the carpet.

“She means she set up a breakfast date with Thanos,” he explained, grinning a little when he saw Hela’s scowl deepen. “That she’s not planning on actually showing up for. And then she’s out of town and I need to check in with him once a month for the next year and do what he says or I’m fucked. So hey, thanks for checking and shit, but I’m not ‘okay’. And you,” he added, at Hela. “Thanks for showing up. Really, means a bunch.”

“Your own damn fault,” Hela muttered. “You decided it was a good plan to tell Odin you’d had a kid. Should’ve expected him to freak out.”

“Yeah, yeah, everything Odin does wrong is my fault,” Loki said. He chuckled. Drank his water. Wished he were drinking something stronger.

“That’s not what she means,” Thor began.

“No, that’s exactly what I mean,” Hela cut in. “I don’t know how you do it, Loki, but every time you show up you just somehow make things worse. Even if all you want is to grab a fucking picture.”

“What picture?” Thor asked, and even before Hela went to grab it he could guess the answer. She thrust their smiling faces at Thor.

“A big family for baby Edda, with everybody happy and healthy and here.” She left the photo out on the pile of paper that had ended up in Thor’s hands and reached for her phone. “You know what, better idea. We should just take a new one. The three of us, big smiles – we should wake Odin up, so she can see the old bastard.”

“Hela, stop it,” Thor sighed. Loki just laughed. Hela rounded on him.

“Really, we should take it up in Mom’s room. Does he still keep the urn up there?” The colour drained from Loki’s face. Hela smirked. “That’s be a nice touch.”

“What are you trying to do? Piss everyone off?” Thor was amazed he wasn’t shouting yet. Part of it was Odin being asleep in the next room, part of it was that Loki was still here, still hadn’t run off. Most of it, though, was just exhaustion.

“How are you not more pissed off?” Hela wondered furiously. “He had a kid, didn’t tell us shit, and one way or another he’s gonna break his parole and end up back in jail where he can’t do fuck all for her. Did you tell Sigyn about what Odin’s like? That that shit is hereditary? I’ll bet she has no idea how sick her little girl could be, because you’re a fucking coward. You know that? And now there’s someone else who might have to pay for it.”

“She’s not like Dad,” Loki said softly. Stubbornly. “And I’m not like him.”

“There’s not way you can know that,” Hela said.

“Do you see me acting crazy?” Loki snapped.

“I haven’t seen you in years,” Hela said flatly. “I’ve got no fucking clue how you act, except that you’re standing here convinced you can be a good dad. And I’d say that’s pretty delusional.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just knowing what you’re not supposed to do doesn’t teach you how to do better. Yeah maybe you’ll try not to hit her but there’s plenty of ways to fuck up that I’m sure even Odin hasn’t thought of yet. And it's not like Mom was much better, even before she -”

“We had a great Mom,” Thor cut in in. He glared at Hela.

“Sure,” Hela said. “Until she couldn’t handle it anymore.”

“Mom,” Thor said, through gritted teeth, “had diabetes. She just had diabetes. And she took the wrong dose. And that’s it. And Hela if you bring this up again, I swear to god…”

Hela studied him for a moment. “You actually believe that,” she said. “Holy shit. I always thought you were the one with his head on straight. You actually believe she took like ten times her insulin by accident?”

“There would’ve been a note if it were… anything else,” Thor said.

“She didn’t have anything left to say.” Hela felt her throat choke up and swallowed it down. “She was stuck here because of us, because of Odin and she had to –”

“To take her fucking insulin,” Thor shouted. “Because she had diabetes.”

“Stop telling yourself –”

But Thor had started and he wasn’t stopping. “She had diabetes. And Dad has schizophrenia and dementia. I spend all day getting him to take his meds, and cleaning for him and cooking for him and wiping his ass and then explaining why Mom’s not eating dinner with us, because he doesn’t remember half of what he did to us and he sure doesn’t remember why she’s not there. So don’t tell me what I’m supposed to be telling myself, okay? ‘Cause I’m stuck here. ‘Cause it couldn’t be either of you two who stayed.” He laughed, miserably. “Fuck.”

Hela’s voice sounded soft in the silence that followed. Kind. “You don’t have to stay.”

“One of us does,” Thor said hoarsely. At least he had stopped shouting. He cast a worried glance at the bedroom door. “I’m going up to bed,” he sighed. “Stay over? The weather’s gone to shit and you can both be gone in the morning, whatever. And Loki, tell me if you fucking need anything. And give Sigyn my number, okay?” Loki nodded faintly. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I will.”

Thor forced himself to smile. “Look, I’m happy for you, at the end of it. Okay? I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Okay.”

Thor cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Hela. She hissed out a breath, nostrils flaring. Stayed silent. After a beat, Thor turned and started up the stairs.

“You staying down here?” he asked Loki over his shoulder. Loki nodded. “At least get yourself a blanket. Good night,” he added. Just to add something. Loki didn’t say anything until Thor was nearly halfway up the stairs.

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, you know. Being a dad. I’m not gonna be like Odin.”

Thor smiled, and nodded. Hela snorted.

“It’s not like you can help being like you, though, is it?”

She got the last word, only because neither of them had the strength to argue with her.


	5. Chapter 5

Even after it got quiet, after the green glow from the microwave told him it was just past 3:00AM, Loki couldn’t sleep. Even though he felt tired down to his bones.

He got up off the couch, pushing aside the thin blanket, and flicked on the dining room lights. The photos were where Thor had left them, spread out on the table. He thumbed the phone GM had lent him, sitting unused in his pocket. Thought about just snapping a picture of the photo and getting out, maybe even getting back to Sakaar before they noticed he’d been gone a day longer than he’d promised. Not likely. He’d probably have to take a few more ‘deliveries’ to pay off the extra day with the car, on top of everything he already owed GM. Having a photo on his family on GM’s phone suddenly seemed like a much worse idea. So did going back to Sakaar, but it wasn’t like he had many choices there. At least, not until Sigyn decided if he was worth keeping around.

With a sinking feeling, he realized Hela was probably right. He couldn’t help it. The more choices he got to make, the fewer choices he seemed to have left. And maybe that was enough to make him a worse father than Odin. He shuddered, and flicked off the lights. He didn’t hear the creak of the door down the hall opening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Odin’s voice was gruff. Hearing it, Loki nearly jumped out of his skin. It was all he could do not to yelp as his Dad felt his way down the dim hallway. “Me either,” Odin continued, without noticing Loki’s fear. Maybe just without caring. “Not with you all screaming your heads off.”

“Sorry,” Loki breathed. Odin just waved his hand.

“Doesn’t matter. Some things need to get said and some need to get said a bit louder. I need a drink,” he added, expectantly.

Loki hesitated. “Sure,” he answered carefully. Odin followed him into the narrow kitchen. “What do you want?” He started heating up the kettle. Odin grimaced.

“Not fucking tea.”

The corner of Loki’s mouth quirked up. “Fair enough.” Odin didn’t look angry yet, so he decided to try his luck. Tried not to imagine Hela laughing at him as he did. “What do we usually drink together?”

Odin and Vili drank beer. Odin and his VA buddies drank gin. Loki didn’t remember the choices being anything else. But Odin only looked at him dumbly. Then he snorted.

“Don’t think we’ve shared a drink, boy,” he said sheepishly. “Should’ve done. A while back.”

Loki faltered. “I – why? Who am I?”

“You’re my son,” Odin said simply. “When I enlisted, after I got home, my father split my lip for volunteering. But when he was done he poured us each a glass, seeing as how I was a man now.”

“I never enlisted,” Loki said lamely. He didn’t add that that had never stopped Odin splitting his lip.

“No,” Odin agreed. “But you did grow up.”

Loki shrugged, and crouched down by the cupboard under the window. Thor didn’t exactly keep a well-stocked liquor cabinet, but there was about a half bottle of Wild Turkey gathering dust that should do. Loki hated the stuff. Odin nodded appreciatively when he put it up on the counter.

“You’ve grown up good,” he muttered. Loki bit his cheek to hold back his smile. Instead of speaking, he got them glasses and poured. Odin downed his, and laughed to hide how much it left him coughing and spurting. Then he laughed at how much Loki coughed. He reached for the bottle and started to pour another round.

“You sure?” Loki croaked. Then, belatedly, “I mean, with all your meds?”

“Fah,” Odin huffed. “You give me too many anyway. Too many. This is all I need.” He raised his glass again, and Loki joined him and drank, and coughed, and laughed when Odin did. Then Odin turned to him and frowned. “What happened to your eye?”

Loki balked. “I – nothing, sir.”

“Nothing’s got a mean…” he trailed off. Loki wondered if it was because he remembered throwing the punch, or because he’d forgotten the sentence he was trying to finish. All at once it meant an awful lot to Loki to know the answer.

“I told you something, earlier,” he began. “You didn’t like hearing it. Do you remember?” Odin looked back at him blankly.

“What’d you tell me?” he asked, voice low and gravelly. Loki fought the urge to stand and run.

“I had a kid,” he said. “A baby girl. Here,” he hurried to the dining room table and picked up the photo of Edda and Sigyn in the hospital bed. He set it down by Odin’s glass, smoothing out the corners. “That’s her. Edda. I just wanted you to see her,” he said quietly. He wasn’t even sure that Odin heard. “That’s it.”

“I see,” Odin whispered. He looked at the smiling faces stuck in place on the glossy paper. Happy, if just for the moment it took to push a button. Loki could hear the softness in Odin’s voice when he spoke. “She’s perfect.”

 Loki was so relieved he forgot how to breathe. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Odin confirmed. “Looks just like you.”

“I doubt that,” Loki snorted. “I hope she’s not much like me at all.”

“She could do worse,” Odin said easily. “Could do a lot better, too,” he added, but his tone was light and joking.

“You’re not mad?” Loki hated that he sounded like a child, asking that. But he didn’t know another way of asking it. Odin sighed, and looked at him.

“Why’s that matter so much to you, if I’m mad? You’ve got a kid to raise. What’re you doing, asking if I’m mad about it?”

“‘Cause you’ve been mad about else everything I’ve done,” Loki said. He’d tried to laugh through it, but it came out sincere. And all the rest somehow followed. “You get mad, I do it anyway and it all goes wrong. This has to go different. And that starts with you.”

Odin shook his head. “I can’t make things go one way or another,” he chuckled. “I’m not some kind of god. You just make choices, boy. Just make them and see how things go. But if it means so much to you, I’m not mad. Not a bit.”

“No?” Loki said, hopefully. Odin raised an empty glass.

“I’m proud of you, Thor. For this and a whole lot besides.”

Loki didn’t answer. He couldn’t, at first. Then, when he stopped feeling like he was falling, he couldn’t find any kind of words.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” he said finally, instead of everything he wished he could have said. He screwed the bottle cap back on and stowed it away. When he looked up, Odin had already wandered halfway down the hall to his bedroom. “Dad?” Loki called then. Odin quirked his head to the side, glancing back. “Dad I…” he began, pitching his voice a little lower. Standing a little taller. Trying to sound a bit more like Thor. “I…” He couldn’t finish, not when whatever he heard back wouldn’t be his to hear. He let his shoulders fall. “Good night.” His cut and his eye hurt, and he was tired. And there was nothing at the end.

“Good night,” Odin muttered, or something like it. Then the bedroom door swung shut.  The microwave display read 3:31.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after an unforgivably long hiatus, I finally finished this thing - bringing the last of the WIPs to a close. Thanks for sticking all the way through this one. I'll grant you it's pretty bleak, so if you want to leave any lighter prompts in the comments (or just any comments, they're always welcome :) ) I'm all ears. Hope you enjoyed!


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